Paint me a picture where the golden hair,
Like sunlight, falls around the chiselled face
Of Grecian imaging;--limn me the grace
Of spiritual beauty, j**el rare,
In features human yet divinely fair.
Let, through the dark-blue splendour of the eye,
Ethereal Hope shine star-like with chaste Love,
And on the brow a wisdom from above,
And on the lip a happy secret lie,
Fraught with the spirit's sweetest sorcery;
Suffuse her face with Music, and the charm--
The animated glow of lofty Thought;
Let Cynthia's mien, with stately mildness fraught
And queenly grace, adorn th' ideal form;
And let her stand on some green isle of bliss,
Where seraphs stoop to woo her witching kiss.